Paris 1997

Grey as the clouds and scowling at gargoyles and suchlike I entered the great door into the gloom of Notre Dame Unusually empty for the time of year And I stood for a while gazing up With the usual sense of awe at the ancient vaults. An elderly woman in white, elegant and slim, Sat listlessly amongst dark clad beings on a few chairs Scattered along the aisle. Then in a fragment of time A narrow shaft of rainbow light touched her snowy hair And my eyes recieved a melancholy glance. Years and miles away as I was walking my dog By the side of a river, I was aware that I was not alone! Scraps of information emerged: An aged husbandRich and indifferent, forever absent. A lover: an artist, young and false. A fatal illnes......Ageless now. Free of pain and heartbreak. You turned up at odd moments: Laughing at questions, giving advice. Annie, it was nice having you around for a while. Perhaps we'll meet again...sometime....somewhere......